January 26, 1998
Barbie's Adventure
January 26, 1998
Slept in late this morning and made certain to watch the Sunday morning news shows. The Clinton sex scandal is just such family entertainment. Finally got of bed, showered and shaved my legs and body. I shave twice a week now, but think every other day should be the rule. I hate looking down and seeing sprouts all over. By noon time I was dressed and on line chatting. An omelet for lunch followed by more chat in the pink room. Eventually started getting hungry and had a light dinner tonight, just some salad with salsa and half a glass of Blush Chablis. The wine becomes a portion of the adventure later. Dinner was just after 5. Following dinner I sat in my chair in the living room and watched the X-files. Dumb show, 1/3 the way through it, I had figured out the plot and from that, the likely outcome. So I sat in my chair watching the idiot box and thinking.
I thought if I was going to go drive while dressed, this was a good night to do so. I continued to sit there, wondering what KT would think of this new adventure. I sprung it on her during a commercial break in the show. She said fine. So I freshened my lipstick, got the car keys, my billfold, grabbed my little 35mm camera, and glasses. Got to document this next milestone. Now, where to drive? I decide there is a logical place I should go. A place that begs me to come. A place I haven't been to in nearly three months. The airport. My poor plane has been sitting out there all this time while I moved; and did the work in the basement and attic. The engine hasn't been started, I haven't checked the tiedowns; poor plane is getting neglected. I decide I should start the airplane engine and recharge the battery, since it must be running down.
So out the door we go with the front porch lights on. I decide not to hide in the darkness on the way to the pickup. I walk across the front deck to the steps and then manage to trip on the steps in my heels. No major problem, I catch myself, but have made a mental note. Do not throw out the 2" heels that are still in my old home in a box for the Salvation Army. Walking down those steps is a hazard and 2" heels would be fine for that if nothing else. So I finish the rest of the steps a bit more carefully and stroll over to the garage and into the front seat of the pickup.
From here its a piece of cake. Inside a pickup at night with the headlights on; no one can see into the pickup. So actually the drive isn't much to speak of. I can feel the weight of my silicon breasts and the heels on my feet, but everything else is just like always. No big deal. I have driven a car wearing heels before and also while wearing a bra. So the only difference is the wig. I'm not nervous at all, no problems. I manage to miss the turn off to the airport. Oops! Must be more nervous than I thought. Pull over and make a U turn and back to the airport road. Stop at the gate and fumble in my purse for the electronic key to open the gate. It had been so long since I was at the airport; I had forgotten I had new keys that looked different from my old beat up ones.
Good thing I had that wine earlier. The aviation rule is eight hours from bottle to throttle, so I legally could not go flying tonight. Otherwise the temptation might have been too much for me. And in the state I was in, I could have done something really stupid while landing. And after three months of not flying I couldn't take KT up with me anyway; until I do three successful takeoffs and landings. And since it was night and I'm not night current at the moment; KT couldn't fly with me until I do full stop taxi back landings either. So the plan is to check the plane, start the engine and run it for a while. And take some pictures of the event.
The airport is deserted, but well lit like a mall parking lot. I park the pickup behind the plane and start removing the cockpit cover, while KT shoots the camera. Cover off, I unlock the door, climb into the cockpit, toss my purse on the back seat, flip on the master switch, don my headset, and turn on the navigation lights to light up the instrument panel for pictures. I've been losing weight, every time recently that I have flown I notice the effects of the loss. The seat is again too far back, its hard to reach the rudder pedals, even with my toes pointed down in the high heels. KT shoots a few, but by this time; I start thinking that running the lights on a battery discharged over the last three months isn't too clever. So I shut them down, tell KT to stay back and that I'm going to start the engine. Fuel pump on, mags to left, mixture rich, couple quick pumps on the throttle and press the starter. The prop swings over and over, not even a pop from the cylinders. Stop, repump the throttle, and try again and again. Still nothing and the battery is beginning to say it is not ready for much more of this. A few more prop rotations and the battery has had it with me and my foolishness.
Well nothing to do now but jump start the thing from the pickup. I hadn't planned on having to do this in heels and a dress. So I climb out of the plane onto the wing in heels and step off. Another mental note: dumb idea walking on the wing in heels. Take them off next time. So I fire up the truck and position it in between the wing and stabilator. In my Piper Cherokee 180 I have an external battery connection for jump starting the engine; so at least I don't have to open up the battery box on the plane.
My adventure so far at the airport was in the dark except for the parking lot lights and the flash of the camera strobe. But now, I leave the pickup headlights on to help me see what I'm doing. Feels like being on stage; two bright headlights on me, as I walk back to the plane and open the luggage compartment to get the jumper cable. Plug it in and attach the clamps to the pickup battery. Ready to try again. Kick off the heels and put them on the wing. Step back up on the wing and slide into the front seat and redon the shoes. Glad I'm not wearing a tight skirt either. Crank over the engine. Girl, it really didn't want to start even with the jump. The prop flips over and over and over. Normally the engine fires after just half a rotation. I'm beginning to wonder what's wrong, look at the fuel gauges and both are reading empty. Has someone stolen my gas? Shutdown the master switch and ask KT to check the fuel tanks. She looks, but in the dark can't really tell. I hand her the flashlight and she swears there's gas in the tank.
So again I tell her to clear prop and crank the engine over. A few more rotations and a pop finally. Try a couple more times and finally the 360 cubic inches purr to life. Great sound that those 90 cubic inch cylinders make. Naturally as the engine kicks over and the plane's alternator starts running the electrics; the tank gauges come to life and indicate plenty of gas. New fun experience, the door is ajar and cold night air is being blown into the cockpit by the prop and up my short dress. Well this is different, but COLD. I finally close the door and shut the pilot's window as I ran the engine to recharge the battery.
Finally I decide to shut it down: throttle back, mixture to idle cutoff. You let the engine run itself out of fuel to stop. That way if some dumb kid came by and flipped over the prop it won't fire and kill the kid. The engine winds down, sputters, and stops. I shut off the mag switch and climb out. Taking my heels off to step off the wing and then putting them back on while safely standing on the tarmac. Last chance to take a few more pictures. Might as well finish the roll with some shots in front of the plane.
Get the cockpit cover back out of the pickup and put it on. This requires climbing back up on the wing. Shoes off again. Glad I wasn't wearing my strap on heels. Would have been a real pain. By this time a plane is landing at the airport. I decide what the heck, and continue buttoning the cover on. The plane lands, takes the taxi way turn off near us, and then turns towards the other end of the field. I doubt if the pilot even saw me there, even with the pickup headlights shining on me.
Get into the truck to drive home, and where's my purse? Oops on the back seat of the plane. Damn! With the cover on, the plane's door can't be opened, going to have to take it off again. Luckily KT reminds me that we only need to loosen the back of the cover. That will allow opening the luggage compartment and she can fit inside and reach over the back of the back seat and get it. Finally with purse in hand, the roll of film in my purse; we get in the pickup to drive off.
I mention to KT that maybe WalMart is still open and that I'll drive her there to drop it off for 1 hour developing. I'm not ready to hit WalMart in a dress, YET. So we head back from the airport, through the downtown main street with street lights and people about. No problem, I'm in a pickup and invisible. I drive to the mall and drop KT at the front door and tell her I'll park nearby. Well the store is open, but the film counter where the 1 hour is done is closed for the night. So no pictures until later. Short drive home, up the drive way, walk back up the steps, across the deck, and my adventure comes to a conclusion.
But during the drive a new plan develops. Next time no wine. Do some touch and goes during the day in drab and then redo the adventure, but with the added dimension of altitude under my wings.
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